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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29290551">Squeak Squeak</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahh_fuck/pseuds/ahh_fuck'>ahh_fuck</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Partial Nudity, Surprise Kissing, Swearing, This is all very mild, they are silly your honor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:01:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29290551</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahh_fuck/pseuds/ahh_fuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic is in response to this prompt:<br/>Happy birthday, you wonderful person! I hope you're having a great day and receive a lot of prompts and other presents you enjoy. Along the same vein, might I ask for some geraskier banter? Just two idiots being sassy. Maybe they're discussing a song of Jaskier? Judging other people? Just lovingly insult each other for the fun of it? Have fun writing!</p><p>Thank you for the lovely prompt, Fabi! Here is a bit of fluffy silliness with the boys teasing each other because they have been cooped up for too long. I hope you like it :)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Squeak Squeak</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhwty_writes/gifts">dhwty_writes</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Do you have to do that every time?” A dry voice breaks across Jaskier’s musings, causing him to startle and drop the thin tool he’d been holding. He lets out a curse and bends over to look for it, scrabbling around on the dim floor. The scrape of a boot on the floor is followed by a warm rush of familiar scent; wood smoke and juniper, horse, sweat. Leather. A hand closes over his own and guides it impatiently to the tool. Before he can say anything the hand is gone and its owner has vanished out of his line of sight again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Must you insist on being an absolutely insufferable bastard?” Jaskier sputters, flourishing his awl in his companion’s general direction. “How have I offended your delicate sensibilities today? No, please tell me, I’m fascinated to know.” Even as he speaks he folds his long body back into the chair and hunches over the sheaves of pages on his desk, which is lit by a pair of merrily dancing little lamps. He leans back into his work, already well on his way to tuning out the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt smirks, picking his whetstone back up and settling onto the bench by the door, near their cloaks and boots. “You squeak air between your teeth every time you twist your awl. You sound like a horny rat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Jaskier straightens abruptly, puffing with indignation. “And I suppose you- you’d know, would you?” He turns to glare at Geralt, his concentration well and truly broken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a nonchalant shrug, Geralt lifts his sword and carefully eyes the edge of the blade. “Sleep in enough damp barns…” His eyes twinkle with humor, clearly enjoying his friend’s indignation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well that’s just- That’s very nice coming from you, my friend! Did you know that you sniff every time you pause with your whetstone? I swear you sound like a fisstech aficionado, but do I say anything?” Jaskier grins as Geralt stops mid-sniff, jerking his head up. “I do not, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am not a boor.” Satisfied, he turns back to his book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You break wind like one when we’re sleeping,” a sardonic voice breaks his concentration the second he gathers it, adding insult to injury. “Did you think I couldn’t hear you?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jaskier turns to glare at Geralt, there is an unrepentant gleam of amusement in the Witcher’s eye. Jaskier scoffs, not about to be outdone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose if we’re bringing up shocking sleeping habits we can’t leave out you, dear Witcher! You scratch your balls like it’s going out of style when you think I’m still asleep in the morning. No need for the rooster, I’ve got you to shake the bed for me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that Geralt breaks out into a helpless laugh, setting his sword and whetstone aside and raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. His chest and shoulders shake with mirth, chagrined to be so thoroughly caught out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… yes, well that’s what I thought,” Jaskier huffs, blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ridiculous, I swear… horny rats, I’ll show you horny rat…” He subsides into a dark muttering, turning back to his work, tuning out any further sounds of movement from behind him as he returns to his work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt watches him for a moment, his golden eyes warm as they catch in the flicker of the lamps. With a few efficient movements, he stows sword and whetstone before rising as quiet as a shadow to stand behind Jaskier’s chair. He leans over, getting closer and closer to his ear. Jaskier, absorbed in his task, begins to squeak again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt squeaks back, right in his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier gasps and throws his awl down, turning around in a flurry of righteous indignation, only to find his imprecations muffled by a grinning kiss. Geralt tips his chin up with callused fingers and steals any further complaints with a lazy sweep of his tongue, humming in smug satisfaction when Jaskier bubbles quietly to a halt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s late,” he rumbles when they break apart, nosing Jaskier’s cheek. “Let’s put out the lanterns and go to bed.” He straightens and walks away, unlacing his shirt as he goes. When he nears the bed he snuffs the lamp on the bedside table with a flick of his fingers, sinking that part of the room in a pool of soupy dimness. The bed creaks as he sits on the edge of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around them, the attic room sighs and creaks as a renewed breath of the gale rattles the roof over their heads. Water slaps against the windows, sliding diagonally across the panes. Jaskier wrinkles his nose, observing the dreary sight with an absentminded little pout. Though it’s hard to tell given the state of the weather, it had to be well past midnight. The night has taken on the thick, dark quality that starts rolling in around two hours past midnight. Loathe though he is to admit it, this is the time of night when even foolish people are in bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier shuffles his papers and tools halfheartedly on the desk but leaves it at that. They’ll be there in the morning for him, for better or worse. He blows out first one lantern, then the other, before crossing the room by the light of the well-banked fire in the hearth. On his way to the bed, he places one more log for the night, which blazes up merrily as he turns his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt moves aside for him as he crawls between the sheets, lifting the blankets to make room for him. His body curves easily to fit Jaskier’s, and they furl together comfortably in the dark. Jaskier listens to the rain hammer on the roof for a while before turning to nuzzle at Geralt’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his skin on the cold tip of his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much longer do you think this storm’s going to last? I feel like we’ve been here ages,” he sighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt turns, tucking Jaskier in close and rubbing his chin along the top of his head. “A few more days,” he guesses. He kisses the soft, unruly thatch of brown hair, enjoying the scent of thyme soap mingling with the soft musk of Jaskier’s scalp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, long enough to go stir crazy. Geralt, I swear I’m going to-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt isn’t interested in finding out more. He mooshes Jaskier’s face against his chest, muffling his complaints with an idle smile on his face. Jaskier gasps and flails, but Geralt just holds on tighter and closes his eyes. With a rumble of amused contentment, he settles in, blissfully ignoring his indignant bard to listen to the storm rage overhead. It is going to be a long few days, but somehow, he is sure they are going to do just fine.     </span>
</p>
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